Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Monday, April 25, 2005
The Garage Sale
A couple weeks ago I went out to the shed to grab/replace a tool for something I was fixing in the house, I ran into my neighbor who was tending her outdoor fish pond. She mentioned her intention to have a garage sale, and was busy recruiting other households in the community to participate. I looked back into the shed, at all the crap that I was dreading having to pack up and move, and said that I’d love to join in. Later that weekend I watched Fight Club (another great movie), and was moved by the whole “The things you own end up owning you…” theme. I don’t think I could bring myself to destroy everything and then move into a condemned house with just the clothes on my back. Maybe I could just try and lose the packrat mentality that’s plagued me for as long as I’ve had a place to put things.
Most anything that hadn’t been utilized in the last 6 months, (excluding items of sentimental value), went up on the block. Anything that was associated with my truck, or required my truck for transport, (spare parts, tires, the boat, etc.) Anything that could easily be replaced with newer, smaller, and more efficient versions by the time I wanted to use it again, (the stereo speakers). All the old computer hardware that was left over from the “buy old, rebuild, and re-sell” program I had going a couple years back went out on the road.
Compared to my two neighbors who lined the side of the road with me, I had by far the best stuff. They were unloading garbage, I was unloading volume.
I was actually surprised at how many customers we had, considering we’re out in the sticks. If I had known earlier that so many would come, I never would have let stuff go as cheaply as I did to the vultures that showed up almost 90 minutes before the advertised start time of 0900. I was still hauling most of it out of the house when a couple of gents came around with their little pickup. They browsed through the stuff up top, and then followed me down to the house. Picked through the computers, bought the stereo speakers and secondary VCR, and then started pointing out other stuff in the house. “How about the TV? How about that oil heater? How about the kitchen table?” Being hung over as I was, and concerned that these would be some of the only customers, I gave them good deals on what I was willing to part with (none of the other items they pawed at), then sent them on their way with a wave and a smile. Looking back, I’m confident that everything they bought is now sitting on a shelf in a local second-hand store, listed at 5 times the price that they paid for it. This was my first garage sale, so shit like that was bound to happen… next time it won’t.
I learned a few other things this weekend.
In the Okanagan, it’s just as easy to get sunburn in April as it is in July.
Telling someone the life story behind an item they’re holding does nothing to change the fact that they only wanna spend 4 dollars on it.
90% of garage sale surfers are seniors, 90% of seniors know nothing about computers, 90% of those looking for computers aren’t interested in buying two old pieces of shit, (despite the low cost), in order to have enough parts to reassemble one working computer. 90% of my computer hardware was still sitting in the sun on Sunday afternoon.
Now it’s in the trunk of the car, bound for the recycling depot.
It was all a worthwhile venture though; most of what didn’t sell is getting picked up by the local non-profit agency for their upcoming garage sale. I’ve got a couple truckloads-worth of crap off my hands.
I’m $225 richer.
Hopefully I won’t have to do that again for a long time.
Most anything that hadn’t been utilized in the last 6 months, (excluding items of sentimental value), went up on the block. Anything that was associated with my truck, or required my truck for transport, (spare parts, tires, the boat, etc.) Anything that could easily be replaced with newer, smaller, and more efficient versions by the time I wanted to use it again, (the stereo speakers). All the old computer hardware that was left over from the “buy old, rebuild, and re-sell” program I had going a couple years back went out on the road.
Compared to my two neighbors who lined the side of the road with me, I had by far the best stuff. They were unloading garbage, I was unloading volume.
I was actually surprised at how many customers we had, considering we’re out in the sticks. If I had known earlier that so many would come, I never would have let stuff go as cheaply as I did to the vultures that showed up almost 90 minutes before the advertised start time of 0900. I was still hauling most of it out of the house when a couple of gents came around with their little pickup. They browsed through the stuff up top, and then followed me down to the house. Picked through the computers, bought the stereo speakers and secondary VCR, and then started pointing out other stuff in the house. “How about the TV? How about that oil heater? How about the kitchen table?” Being hung over as I was, and concerned that these would be some of the only customers, I gave them good deals on what I was willing to part with (none of the other items they pawed at), then sent them on their way with a wave and a smile. Looking back, I’m confident that everything they bought is now sitting on a shelf in a local second-hand store, listed at 5 times the price that they paid for it. This was my first garage sale, so shit like that was bound to happen… next time it won’t.
I learned a few other things this weekend.
In the Okanagan, it’s just as easy to get sunburn in April as it is in July.
Telling someone the life story behind an item they’re holding does nothing to change the fact that they only wanna spend 4 dollars on it.
90% of garage sale surfers are seniors, 90% of seniors know nothing about computers, 90% of those looking for computers aren’t interested in buying two old pieces of shit, (despite the low cost), in order to have enough parts to reassemble one working computer. 90% of my computer hardware was still sitting in the sun on Sunday afternoon.
Now it’s in the trunk of the car, bound for the recycling depot.
It was all a worthwhile venture though; most of what didn’t sell is getting picked up by the local non-profit agency for their upcoming garage sale. I’ve got a couple truckloads-worth of crap off my hands.
I’m $225 richer.
Hopefully I won’t have to do that again for a long time.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Puck Fiction
If you've ever seen the movie Pulp Fiction, and you're Canadian (ie: you've watched hockey), then you also need to watch this clip:
Coach Jules
Coach Jules
Monday, April 18, 2005
Evaluation time
Looks like I'm gonna be switching from hourly wages to a salary pretty soon, probably at the end of the month. This will be my first salary experience. No more having to save up to compensate for lost wages during a vacation. No more punching the clock on my way in and out. No more having to adjust my hours in response to a missed or extended lunch break. It’d be pretty cool if it was gonna last past September.
On the plus side, the switch will come with a raise.
It’s been almost 1.5 years since the last one. And thanx to the little prick who used to manage the place, (and I mean little… Napoleon complex radiated from his towering 5’5” frame), that raise was only 19% of the figure that was requested from him by my boss. The whole office staff suffered that time around, the average raise was about 35 cents. The little prick however, thanx to his efficient spending, was promoted to Regional manager. Then a few months later, to VP of Canadian Operations. His VP job required that he move back to Quebec and into an office at headquarters. We didn’t miss him. Well I heard that he wasn’t enjoying himself at the big office… after all, what good is a 200k+ salary when you’re not the biggest fish in the pond anymore? The little prick has recently quit the company and moved on.
OK. Rant finished.
I have to fill out a “Work performance self evaluation” form for my boss. It’s multiple choice, with “A: Exceptional” through to “E: Improvement needed” for each of a couple dozen questions. This must be what going to salary is all about; they wanna know what I think about my own attitude, where I see myself going in the company, and if my employees trust and respect me. There’s a second column next to each question, for my boss to insert his A – E opinion of my performance for each question. That way I can compare the answers on a bar graph and see if I’m overly modest or suffer from delusions of grandeur. My original plan was to make a photocopy of this test, then fill it out twice. One with my honest answers, and the other with the extreme polar opposites for each. I’d give my boss the fake one first and have a laugh before presenting the original…. Unfortunately, he’s already written on it with blue ink, so he’d probably catch on a little too quickly, but maybe I’ll do it anyways.
A sense of humor is always a good thing to “bring to the table”.
On the plus side, the switch will come with a raise.
It’s been almost 1.5 years since the last one. And thanx to the little prick who used to manage the place, (and I mean little… Napoleon complex radiated from his towering 5’5” frame), that raise was only 19% of the figure that was requested from him by my boss. The whole office staff suffered that time around, the average raise was about 35 cents. The little prick however, thanx to his efficient spending, was promoted to Regional manager. Then a few months later, to VP of Canadian Operations. His VP job required that he move back to Quebec and into an office at headquarters. We didn’t miss him. Well I heard that he wasn’t enjoying himself at the big office… after all, what good is a 200k+ salary when you’re not the biggest fish in the pond anymore? The little prick has recently quit the company and moved on.
OK. Rant finished.
I have to fill out a “Work performance self evaluation” form for my boss. It’s multiple choice, with “A: Exceptional” through to “E: Improvement needed” for each of a couple dozen questions. This must be what going to salary is all about; they wanna know what I think about my own attitude, where I see myself going in the company, and if my employees trust and respect me. There’s a second column next to each question, for my boss to insert his A – E opinion of my performance for each question. That way I can compare the answers on a bar graph and see if I’m overly modest or suffer from delusions of grandeur. My original plan was to make a photocopy of this test, then fill it out twice. One with my honest answers, and the other with the extreme polar opposites for each. I’d give my boss the fake one first and have a laugh before presenting the original…. Unfortunately, he’s already written on it with blue ink, so he’d probably catch on a little too quickly, but maybe I’ll do it anyways.
A sense of humor is always a good thing to “bring to the table”.
Friday, April 15, 2005
All better now.
The two days since my last post can be quickly summed up with this quote, direct from the screenplay for Trainspotting... (Great movie)
"At or around this time, we made a healthy, informed, democratic decision to get back on drugs as soon as possible. It took about twelve hours."
Ahhhh.... ready fer the weekend.
"At or around this time, we made a healthy, informed, democratic decision to get back on drugs as soon as possible. It took about twelve hours."
Ahhhh.... ready fer the weekend.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Jibblies!! I got em...who wants em? Jibblies, dizzy spells and weird blood pressure surges in my limbs...
I ran outta pills yesterday.
The last time I had my prescription refilled was in December, and I got enough all in one shot to carry me through until springtime. The sun’s out and the birds are chirping now. Now would be the right time to kick these things to the curb. But with all the happenings and goings on concerning the likelihood of an impending move and return to school, I’ve been getting a little stressed out. Make that a lot stressed out. All the springtime in the world isn’t gonna balance me out.
For the last few weeks I’ve looked into my pill bottle every morning and thought, “Better get some more, no I’m gonna quit, no…” When I finally did decide to quit, it was far too late to begin a proper dose reduction schedule. I had a repeat of last winter: ”Uh-oh, just 4 pills left, better cut em in half.” And that was the elaborate weaning process.
Watch for me on the news tomorrow: Local office worker quits his anti-anxiety meds early, attempts to subdue the withdrawal symptoms by popping metabolism boosters. Two dead, four wounded… more at 11:00.
Anyways, enough about how frickin stupid I am…. Time for something more interesting.
My car was broken into over the weekend. No damage, just a slight case of missing CD wallets... I must have left it unlocked.
The car, along with me, was parked at home all weekend. I wasn’t going anywhere after all; I had borrowed the HD LCD projector from work and spent the whole time playing Warcraft while lying in bed with the screen blasted out across the entire wall above me. It was bliss. I had my speakers on each end table and the sub under the bed... keyboard on my lap, the mouse in one hand and a beer in the other. I was being bombarded by enough sensory input that I barely noticed the noisy 17-21 year old party that was going on in the house next door. The next morning I came out long enough to pick up a few empty beer bottles off my front lawn. (Empty Coronas and MGDs, sure sign of barely-post-teen party).
Come Monday, on my way home from work, I pulled a disc out of the stereo and went to exchange it for another. After a few minutes of searching, followed by sheer disbelief, it became apparent that my two cases were indeed not in the car. *I live in a small strata community out in the boonies, this wasn't the result of kids out prowling downtown streets and looking for something to steal.* I gave it an extra day just to make sure they didn’t turn up, and then yesterday after work I knocked on the neighbor’s door. The younger of the two brothers answered my calling. I had planned out the conversation well beforehand, what I’d say if he took offense to my suggestions and what not, and I remained very diplomatic. I asked him if by chance it was a party where “friends of friends that couldn’t be accounted for” showed up, and if any of those people had left anything behind at his place. He looked slightly startled, then saddened, and said “Oh-no, did stuff go missing from your place too?” Turns out that my suspicions were correct, the boys’ party got way outta hand, people they didn’t know showed up, and a bunch of their own stuff disappeared as well. He promised me that if he did manage to track down his own CDs, (which I’m sure he’s trying very hard to do… a 17 year old’s music collection is always very important to him), then he’d be sure to return mine.
Oh well... granted, half of my collection was purchased music that I’ve had for about seven years now, (since the last time my vehicle was broken into), but a lot of it was just mixed discs that I stole off the internet. Karma I suppose.
The last time I had my prescription refilled was in December, and I got enough all in one shot to carry me through until springtime. The sun’s out and the birds are chirping now. Now would be the right time to kick these things to the curb. But with all the happenings and goings on concerning the likelihood of an impending move and return to school, I’ve been getting a little stressed out. Make that a lot stressed out. All the springtime in the world isn’t gonna balance me out.
For the last few weeks I’ve looked into my pill bottle every morning and thought, “Better get some more, no I’m gonna quit, no…” When I finally did decide to quit, it was far too late to begin a proper dose reduction schedule. I had a repeat of last winter: ”Uh-oh, just 4 pills left, better cut em in half.” And that was the elaborate weaning process.
Watch for me on the news tomorrow: Local office worker quits his anti-anxiety meds early, attempts to subdue the withdrawal symptoms by popping metabolism boosters. Two dead, four wounded… more at 11:00.
Anyways, enough about how frickin stupid I am…. Time for something more interesting.
My car was broken into over the weekend. No damage, just a slight case of missing CD wallets... I must have left it unlocked.
The car, along with me, was parked at home all weekend. I wasn’t going anywhere after all; I had borrowed the HD LCD projector from work and spent the whole time playing Warcraft while lying in bed with the screen blasted out across the entire wall above me. It was bliss. I had my speakers on each end table and the sub under the bed... keyboard on my lap, the mouse in one hand and a beer in the other. I was being bombarded by enough sensory input that I barely noticed the noisy 17-21 year old party that was going on in the house next door. The next morning I came out long enough to pick up a few empty beer bottles off my front lawn. (Empty Coronas and MGDs, sure sign of barely-post-teen party).
Come Monday, on my way home from work, I pulled a disc out of the stereo and went to exchange it for another. After a few minutes of searching, followed by sheer disbelief, it became apparent that my two cases were indeed not in the car. *I live in a small strata community out in the boonies, this wasn't the result of kids out prowling downtown streets and looking for something to steal.* I gave it an extra day just to make sure they didn’t turn up, and then yesterday after work I knocked on the neighbor’s door. The younger of the two brothers answered my calling. I had planned out the conversation well beforehand, what I’d say if he took offense to my suggestions and what not, and I remained very diplomatic. I asked him if by chance it was a party where “friends of friends that couldn’t be accounted for” showed up, and if any of those people had left anything behind at his place. He looked slightly startled, then saddened, and said “Oh-no, did stuff go missing from your place too?” Turns out that my suspicions were correct, the boys’ party got way outta hand, people they didn’t know showed up, and a bunch of their own stuff disappeared as well. He promised me that if he did manage to track down his own CDs, (which I’m sure he’s trying very hard to do… a 17 year old’s music collection is always very important to him), then he’d be sure to return mine.
Oh well... granted, half of my collection was purchased music that I’ve had for about seven years now, (since the last time my vehicle was broken into), but a lot of it was just mixed discs that I stole off the internet. Karma I suppose.
Friday, April 08, 2005
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